


The Fool's Dance

by lithalos



Series: Caravanserai [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Suicide, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 02:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12159858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithalos/pseuds/lithalos
Summary: It was nice, pretending she didn’t have to be alone, pretending someone wanted to stick around.





	The Fool's Dance

**Author's Note:**

> yet another oneshot in the caravanserai universe (ann's, this time). this one is only b a r e l y attached to it, though, so you don't really need to have read it to read this one.
> 
> (unbeta'd as per usual)

A dance, of sorts. She knew the steps by heart; avoid rumors, avoid people, pretend it never got to her. Step by step, over and over again, every single day. The endless performance of glittery smiles, dodging questions, practicing her selective hearing. Acting the fool in the face of many, many people there to simply be entertained by the misery they impose.

Ann found she was  _ great _ at acting when the only thing on the line was her pride. As whispers of her and  _ so-and-so _ , taunts poking at her different appearance, scoffs at her attitude, as poisonous word of her bled through the halls with her, she remained unshakable. Reaction was what they craved, seeing her cave and finally snap would only spur them further.

Though, some days it felt they didn’t  _ need _ any more reason to alienate her other than because  _ they could. _

And truly, she was alone. Surrounded by so many who built towering walls of insults between her and anyone who would dare get close, it was hard not to feel the sting of loneliness. Ann had become a pro at acting the part of the unfazeable girl of rumor, of being ‘above it all,’ as so many spat at her like it was an insult.

She wished she actually was above it all. She wished for nothing more than to vanish from the talk of the school, wished desperately she could shake the icy grip of despair grasping at her. Though, as she’d learned praying her parents would be more of a presence in her life than the occasional text of apologies for missed birthdays, missed days, missed  _ everything _ … rarely do wishes come true.

* * *

The first person to break through the daunting barrier of ridicule Ann had been encased in was some punk kid. Sakamoto Ryuji, star of the track team with an obnoxiously loud voice to drown out those filled with malice. He’d simply wormed his way into being around her, ignoring any and all protests she may have offered. (Weak as they were.)

They’d become thick as thieves in no time at all. He’d come over to her place after school nearly every day and they’d snack and joke and avoid homework until the clock wound down and sunlight was whittled away by night. Ann would avoid questions of his home, of the fist-shaped bruises on his arms, his legs, his  _ everything, _ and he’d dance around the rumors of her he’d  _ certainly _ heard by now. It was nice, pretending she didn’t have to be alone, pretending someone wanted to stick around.

Damn, did it hurt when that fantasy shattered.

It was some incident at the school. That’s all she really knew about it—Sakamoto and Kamoshida, but the details were warped and wrung through the rumormill until they were nothing but a fairy tale. 

Sakamoto had tried to kill him, had gone savage and attacked out of nowhere, poor Kamoshida. It was self-defense, Kamoshida protected himself and the whole track team from Sakamoto’s violent rampage. Sakamoto was a little hurt, yeah, but he deserved it. Suspension? He should be expelled, the delinquent.

Ann didn’t believe a single word of it. This was the same boy with the crooked smile, who would laugh at Ann’s bad jokes and worse puns, who absolutely  _ loved  _ ramen. The same boy who hugged her close as she cried, for what she hadn’t been sure. The same boy who was always so,  _ so  _ gentle with her. He had a temper, sure. It would flare up when he heard people shit-talk her when she was by his side, it would roar when he saw the ills of the world embodied by Kamoshida.

But Sakamoto was  _ good _ . He deserved better than to be flung to the gossip wolves.

Didn’t change the fact that when he’d stumbled back into the school, cast on his leg and dead eyes on the floor, he’d started avoiding her like the plague. Even when he could shuffle in on his own, even when he’d snap rebelliously at teachers and pointedly ignored dress code, Sakamoto refused to go anywhere near her.

That was fine; Ann was used to being alone.

She never expected anyone to get close to her again. Or rather, she never thought she’d be the one to reach out to someone else. And again, she’d prove herself wrong.

The girl looked down, sitting alone on a bench in the courtyard and tugging at the school-issued turtleneck. Truthfully, Ann had every intention to keep walking, to turn her head and turn a blind eye. This girl wasn’t her responsibility, this girl would be better off without the Takamaki Ann spotlight on her, this girl…

Was  _ crying _ .

It only took the soft sniffling as the girl brushed at her face for Ann to be at her side in an instant. Ann knew too well what it was like to cry alone, and she’d be damned if she stood by and let someone else.

Suzui Shiho became the absolute light of her life that day; while she had obstinately refused to explain why she was crying, why she had cuts and scrapes and bruises that looked too much like fingers, like hands, Suzui  _ had _ agreed to crepes. So that’s what they did—over crepes, they forgot the weight of the world for just a little bit. The way Suzui lit up over a strawberry crepe, giggled when Ann had cream on her face, made her heart her heart swell. The way Suzui smiled so honestly despite everything gave Ann just a little bit of hope.

* * *

It was Shiho that had gotten her into singing in the first place. One outing for karaoke and poorly belted out pop songs turned into Shiho beaming over at Ann and gushing about how beautiful her voice was. Ann had denied it, of course, offering half-hearted deflections that Shiho’s was  _ so  _ much nicer. (Which was objectively untrue and they both knew it; Shiho was decidedly tone-deaf but Ann would never tell her that.)

Shiho wouldn’t let it go, though, and a selfish joy bubbled in Ann’s chest. If it would make Shiho happy, she’d sing until her throat ran dry and mouth filled with cotton. Ann would do  _ anything  _ to keep that carefree, radiant smile on her face.

* * *

The new kid transferring into her class, the one who’d showed up half a day late even though she’d  _ seen _ him on the way to school, the one with a criminal record that may as well have been tattooed to his face, eased the whirlwind of rumors around Ann a little bit. She felt a twinge of guilt for being relieved; it wasn’t fair to the new kid to be the brunt of the scandal. At least he didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all, never spoke out, never voiced any dissent or complaints. (Honestly, she hadn’t heard more than two words out of the guy, anyways.)

He was stronger than her in that right, at least.

The new kid—Kurusu, Kawakami had said—and Sakamoto quickly gravitated towards each other for whatever reason. At first, Ann hadn’t found it suspicious in the least. She was glad Sakamoto was around  _ someone _ , even if she was bitter that he’d essentially cut her off and left her high and dry. Kurusu looked to be a good influence too, ironically enough, and it was only natural the two school delinquents stick to each other like glue. They spent  _ hours _ in the music room together, making music that would slowly peter out as the night fell.

When they started antagonizing Kamoshida, when they started acting arrogant and downright  _ shifty _ , was when skepticism wormed it’s way into Ann’s mind. Best case scenario, they were picking harmless, albeit foolish, fights with Kamoshida to blow off steam. Worst case scenario, they were  _ planning  _ something. Something that would inevitably get them in heaps and heaps of trouble. Something the school delinquent and the criminal on probation  _ should not  _ be involved in.

Ann didn’t care. She shouldn’t care. They had nothing to do with her.

* * *

Her world, as Ann had discovered, was so easily shattered. It didn’t take a detective to see that something was wrong with Shiho, that something had  _ been _ wrong for what felt like forever now. The light of her life gradually grew dim, reserved, hunched shoulders and lips that could no longer find a smile. She would blankly recite reassurances when Ann would ask if she was okay, when Ann would ask if she was  _ really  _ okay. There was no way Shiho was, not with the disturbing amount of bruises and scrapes and  _ tears _ . Not with how her eyes lacked life and her voice lacked strength. Yet every single time, she’d insist she was fine and quickly change the subject to something else,  _ anything else _ .

Even singing for Shiho no longer brought a smile to her face, something that chilled Ann’s blood and threatened to crush her heart every time Shiho would try to force one.

Part of her knew when a classmate yelled out about someone on the roof. Part of her knew  _ instantly _ . It didn’t take a detective to know something had  _ been _ wrong with Shiho, that the lifeless look in her eyes was one misstep from materializing in the worst way. The other part, the one that loved Shiho more than anything, that frantically did everything it could to make her  _ happy _ , was in absolute denial. If she lost Shiho…

Ann was on her feet running, sprinting  _ madly _ , despite the teacher shouting for everyone to remain in their seats. Her heavy breath fogged the glass as she pressed close, closer to it, tears streaming down her face when she spotted the sun in the sky, on the roof.

And then the sun,  _ her sun _ , fell to the earth.

* * *

Kurusu and Sakamoto weren’t hard to find in the slightest. Even if she couldn’t just use the obnoxiously loud sound of his voice to track him down, the fact they were almost  _ always  _ in the music room after school made it effortless.

Their stunned faces—or, more accurately, Sakamoto’s stunned and red faced sputtering and Kurusu’s intense stare—as she strode into the room was oddly satisfying. “Wh-what are you doing here?” Sakamoto finally blurted out, bolting up from the throne of the drums. Kurusu watched her with sharp grey eyes, shifting his creepy black guitar to his back and tilting his head. Watching. Waiting. She wouldn’t disappoint.

With a straight back, feet planted, deep breath: “I want in.”

**Author's Note:**

> honest i did intend to work on sun and then. this happened. so. oops.
> 
> at least this one is cleaner than akiras yikes


End file.
